“I don't think we were hoping anything. You only told us of our parentage that last night before the battle and it's not as though we've had decades to adjust,” the blond dwarf snarks back. “As far as I'm concerned, that conversation took place about a day ago so you'll have to forgive us if this whole situation is something of a shock. I wasn't expecting to wake up in the future, let alone discover that my baby cousin, an elf prince, and a human are secretly my parents. And you're all male at that.”

“A very good point,” Gimli agrees as he joins the conversation. “I’m still a little fuzzy on how we managed to have kids.”

“I'm serious. When elves truly love someone with whom they can't have children naturally, our magic has been known to bypass the birthing process. It's not common but it happens and that's what happened here,” Legolas explains yet again, his tone a touch exasperated at his lover's disbelief. “However, other than that, Fíli and Kíli are completely normal children. Our sons would still be babies now if the Valar hadn't chosen to transport them through time.”

“Yeah, about that,” the ranger says. “You knew that we were going to have children someday and you never mentioned it? Why didn't you say something years ago?”

“Oh, he's in trouble now,” Kíli whispers to his brother.

“Ssh, Kí. I want to hear this,” Fíli mutters back.

“I knew that I had children but I didn't know with whom,” the elf tells Aragorn. “It's not as though our sons came with instructions listing out their lineage. I thought their father was a dwarf.”

“Hey! I am a dwarf,” Gimli protests hotly.

“Oh, yes, I'm well aware of that,” Legolas replies with a lascivious smirk.

“Eew, I did not need that image.”

“Will you stop whispering? They might remember that we're here.”

“I promise you, I didn't know that this was possible,” the elf continues, looking at the ranger pleadingly. “I didn't know that love children could be born of three parents and I had no idea when their birth would fall in history. Gandalf told me that my sons had been sent back to the future but for all I knew, I would not meet their father for another thousand years.”

“So I was there to warm your bed until that day arrived?” Aragorn asks flatly, arms crossed over his chest.

“What? No! I love you, you idiot,” Legolas protests instantly. “Why do you think I was so messed up over Gimli? I knew I cared about him, but I couldn't bear to lose you and I thought I had to choose.”

“See, that's why you should have told me,” the ranger says. He's never been one for holding grudges and he shakes his head with both fondness and exasperation now. “I could have saved you a lot of misery if we'd spoken about the future years ago. A simple: 'no, I don't mind sharing,' and we could have gotten to the fun part weeks ago.”

“Wait, you were messed up over me?” Gimli asks suddenly, his thoughts finally catching up to the words that the elf said.

“You didn't notice?” Aragorn asks with a wry smile as he wraps an arm around the elf's slim waist. “Legolas here has been pining up a storm.”

“Hey, I wasn't pining,” the elf denies, though he melts into the man's touch anyway.

“Sorry, but you were. Even Thorin noticed.”

“Wait, Uncle Thorin noticed something?” Kíli cackles, unable to stay silent anymore. “I wish I could have seen that. You must have been so obvious.”

“Shut up, Kíli,” Gimli growls. “Don't make me come over there and shut you up myself.”

“I'd like to see you try, daddy...”

Kíli stops, his face twisting like he's just tasted something sour and the three dwarves shudder almost simultaneously.

“Oh, that sounded weird,” Fíli mutters.

“Yeah, how about you never ever use that word again,” Gimli agrees. “We can stick to being cousins. You can call the others 'father' if you want but as long as we're still family, that's good enough for me.”

“I'm not sure I want to call them father either,” the older prince says, eyeing Legolas and Aragorn a little warily. “Maybe we'll just use their names for now.”

“Yeah, I mean, we might have to work up to that kind of thing,” Kíli agrees. “But, speaking of family, shouldn't we tell Thorin and our mother that we're, you know, still alive and all? I'm sure they were both worried when we just disappeared. Did they know that we'd be coming back again?”

“No one knew for sure,” Legolas admits. “All we had was hope and the wizard's word on it.”

“Well, thank you for believing then,” Fíli tells him earnestly. He's still not sure how he feels about his strange, strange parentage, but he'd like the chance to get to know his fathers better. “I would have hated to return to some far future where no one knew our names. Although, we aren't going to screw up the succession, are we? I don't mind stepping down if our uncle has named another heir.”

“Nah, that won't be an issue,” Gimli reassures him. “Neither Thorin nor Dís has gotten married so Dáin is your only competition for the crown and he still prefers the Iron Hills over the Lonely Mountain. He'll be just as glad as anyone to know that Erebor's long-lost princes are finally home again.”

“Ugh, princes,” Kíli grumbles. “I'd almost managed to forget that part of things. Will I to have to act all proper now? Mother always said I'd have to learn some manners once we took back Erebor.”

“You're a lost cause, brother. Everyone knows that.”

“Yeah, but I don't want to disappoint her.”

“Mother won't care about your manners, Kíli. She'll just be glad to see you,” Fíli says. “Although, I suppose some practice wouldn't hurt. We're princes of both Erebor and Mirkwood, and we'll be representing two different kingdoms with everything we say.”

“Three kingdoms, actually,” Legolas corrects.

“Huh, really?”

“Legolas,” Aragorn growls warningly.

“If we're sharing secrets, it seemed like they should know,” the elf shrugs, clearly still a little irritated by the ranger's teasing earlier. “What if they want to travel to the lands of men someday?”

“Fine,” the man says flatly. “That is technically correct. But I have no plans to claim the throne of Gondor so don't go spreading that around.”

“I told you, I didn't know...” Legolas starts. “Wait, you want to have more children?”

“Well, yeah. Eventually,” the dwarf says with a shrug. “As much as I love these idiots, it might be nice to raise a set myself. This whole cousin-father thing is still a little weird.”

“I-”

“And my mother will want grandchildren that aren't already fully grown,” Gimli continues. “Still, we can probably put her off with wedding planning for at least a couple months. That should give us breathing room.”

“I-”

“I think you broke him, Gimli.”

“I-”

“Maybe he's just never considered what it means to have so many in-laws,” Kíli offers helpfully. “Not to mention mother. You won't be able to plan anything without getting Dís involved.”

“True enough,” Fíli agrees. “Between her and Hilda – not to mention Glóin – your wedding will probably be the biggest event that this kingdom's ever seen.”

“Is it too late to elope?” Aragorn asks, looking at Gimli a little desperately.

“Much, much too late,” the dwarf replies. “You two got me into this and there's no way that I'm facing all my relatives alone. You and Legolas are stuck right here with me.”

“Well, that's not such a bad place to be,” the ranger says, giving Gimli a smile of his own.

“You know, if you have nothing better to do than stand there commentating, you should go find Mirkwood's emissary,” Aragorn tells the archer. “From what I've heard, Tauriel will want to know that you're all right.”

“Tauriel? She's here?” the younger prince exclaims. The words have barely left his mouth before he's dashing from the room.

“Damn it, Kíli! Wait!” his brother calls, but Kíli is long gone.

“Great, I guess I better go find Thorin,” Fíli says with a sigh. “Otherwise, he might die of shock when someone tells him about the ghost that is running through his halls.”

The prince sighs again and then leaves the room, his pace much slower than his brother's madcap dash. Once the door has shut behind him, Aragorn grins down at Gimli once again. “Well, that's them taken care of. Let's get our elf prince verbal before the hoards descend.”

“You know, you're taking this rather well,” the dwarf says, looking at the ranger quizzically. But Aragorn just shrugs.

“I could say the same for you. Honestly, even if he'd told me, I would have loved him anyway. So while I never planned to have quite this many relatives, I've always wanted a big family and hopefully Kíli and Tauriel's reunion will give us room to breathe.”

“Is that why you told him she was here?”

“Well, I probably would have told him either way,” the ranger admits. “But a royal wedding will be a good distraction. Maybe with their marriage to draw all the attention, our own can be low-key.”

“You're a devious bastard, aren't you?” Gimli asks with a wide grin. “I think I rather like it. Dwarves don't usually do trios and I admit I had my doubts. Not about the sex, of course – couldn't pass that option up. But long-term is something different and I wasn't sure of that.”

The dwarf pauses, looking at Aragorn and Legolas intently for a moment. “I think that I can love you, both of you, beyond any weight or measure, and I want that more than anything. I want to know you the way you know each other and I don't even mind that I've got years of catching up to do.”

“That sounds perfect.”

“Yes, it does,” Legolas agrees, finally waking from his stupor. “I know that we can't have forever, but I want a lifetime. I want to love you until the very second that time decides to claim you, a gaggle of our children gathered round to say farewell.”

“And you'll have it,” Gimli promises his lover fervently. “Assuming, of course, that my mother doesn't decide to kill all three of us for bearing twin sons without warning and before our wedding day.”